The Seventh Saviour
by onlythelights
Summary: Albus Potter is used to people being surprised that he is, in fact, Harry Potter's son. He understands their confusion, to be honest. He thinks it himself all the time. How could a man as great as Harry Potter have a son who was...well, Albus?


**Author's Note: I don't own the world of Harry Potter, nor do I own any characters from the actual series. They all belong to Jo Rowling (God bless the Queen), but the characters that I have created ****are my own, and plagiarism is prohibited, and illegal.**

**Chapter 1**

_**o**_

When Albus Potter woke, his heart was pounding and his skin was crawling.

He gritted his teeth to prevent a gasp from escaping and turned over onto his side, clenching his fists. Luke and Will were lying in the beds either side of him, both of them snoring, but the familiar sounds did nothing to ease his panic. He squeezed his eyes shut, furious with himself.

He had stayed awake for as long as he could, curled up in an uncomfortable position against the wall, his eyes forced open. He had had his wand in his hand, and he had enchanted it to turn red-hot every time he felt himself dozing to wake him up again. But, of course, eventually sleep had come, and with sleep came the nightmares.

They were the same every night - or, every night that he let himself sleep. They were never perfectly clear, nor did they make much sense. A blazing fire, flickering shadows, and one long, piercing scream. A scream that never ceased to chill his blood. A scream that caused a knot to form in the pit of his stomach, even though he had no idea who it was that was shrieking. The only thing he knew for certain was that the voice - he had also figured out that it was a female voice - was screaming for help, and every night he failed to save her, whoever _she _was.

Tonight, however, it had differed slightly. Tonight, after the scream, which was were he usually woke, paralysed with fear, he had caught a glimpse of a girl. It had only lasted a second, but the image was burned into his mind. A girl about his age, with curly blonde hair, pale skin, and wide, blue, blank eyes. At first he had thought that she seemed perfectly normal. Then he had spotted the blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. The mere thought of it made his stomach lurch, because he knew for certain that she was dead.

_It's not real, _he told himself now, trying to push himself upright without waking any of the others. _It's not real, it's not real. _Nevertheless, he couldn't get the picture out of his mind. It took several minutes before his heart rate returned to normal.

Breathing heavily, he glanced over to his bedside table. The folded piece of parchment was still exactly where he had left it, alongside his favourite dark blue quill and his pot of ink. He reached out for it and clutched it as he struggled to find his wand. When he found it at the bottom of his bed, he whispered, _"Lumos," _and waited for the tip of his wand to glow. He needed to read it again, to take his mind of the dream.

He flicked his dark hair out of his eyes and started to read.

_Albus,_

_How's school? Is Lily alright? Does she talk to you often? Is she eating properly? Make sure you find out if you don't already know, you know how your mother worries about her._

_Speaking of your siblings, we're beginning to regret our decision to let James stay with us until he gets his own house. Up until the early hours, and he sleeps until midday. We hardly ever see him even when he's awake. Ever since I taught him and Louis how to use a telephone, they talk for hours on end. From what I've heard, they're planning to follow in your Uncle George's footsteps and work in the joke shop, except I think James wants to change the name to Weasley-Potter's Wizard Wheezes. I don't think your mother will be thrilled when she finds out._

_I have some news! Rolf finally proposed to Luna, and they have set a date for the end of May. Your mother thinks that it's about time, but Luna says they wanted to wait until Lorcan and Lysander were old enough to properly enjoy it. They've asked your mum to be the maid of honour. She burst into tears when she got the owl (she made me promise not to tell anyone that, so keep it to yourself). Neville's to be the best man. We've already sent an owl to Neville, and he's promised to talk to your Heads of House so you and Lily can leave school a few days early at the end of the year to attend the wedding. Of course Vicky's invited too, but please ask her to keep her remarks to a minimum. You and I might find them funny, but I'm afraid at a wedding they might not be appreciated._

_Reply as soon as you can,_

_Dad_

Albus sighed and held the letter to his chest. He had already read it so many times he almost knew it off by heart, but he read it over and over anyway. He found it typical of his parents to enquire about Lily more than himself, though he knew it wasn't without reason. In his reply he had assured his father that his sister was absolutely fine - well, as fine as could be expected. He had seen her smile. He had seen her laugh, once or twice. On the whole, she was doing a lot better than she had been during the summer.

He had laughed when Harry complained about James. His older brother, just turned eighteen, was obviously a burden on their parents, and their cousin Louis wasn't helping. The two of them had always been inseparable, but lately, ever since they had both graduated from Hogwarts, they were glued to each other.

He'd had to read the part about Luna and Rolf several times before it had much meaning. Their children, Lorcan and Lysander, were now twelve, in their second year at Hogwarts, both of them in Ravenclaw. Albus understood what his aunt meant when she said she wanted them to be old enough to understand her getting married. He couldn't help wishing he had been alive when his parents got married, just to see what it had been like. However, it took him a while for the information to sink in. _His aunt was getting married. _He couldn't picture Luna in a white meringue gown and high heels.

Even though he had received the letter a week ago, he hadn't told Vicky about it yet. He didn't want to show her the actual letter in case she was offended at his father's comments on her frequent sarcastic remarks. She got angry easily enough. She would be thrilled at the prospect of attending Luna's wedding, though. She would be thrilled at the prospect of even _seeing _her. _Or _his parents.

Albus refolded the parchment and placed it back onto his bedside table. He pointed his glowing wand to the red clock also on the table. It read half past five. He looked over his shoulder out of the window. The sky had turned the silvery, icy colour of smoke. He could see the sun peeking out from behind the horizon. He knew it would be pointless to try and get back to sleep now. Instead, he swung his legs out of bed as quietly as he could, and stood up. The floorboards creaked, and he winced, but Luke in the bed beside him only coughed and turned over. He started to creep towards his trunk, hoping to grab his things and be dressed and ready by the time the others were up. As he did so, an image flashed into his mind.

It was the girl again - the only with the blonde hair and the unseeing eyes. It was more vivid than ever, so real that Albus had to clutch his bedpost for support, his knees buckling. He bit the inside of the cheek to stop himself screaming. The metallic taste of blood formed in his mouth. He swallowed, grimacing. He forced himself to calm down (though it took several minutes) and straightened up, running his hands through his hair.

As he got dressed, the dead girl was the only thing on his mind.

**_ooo_**

"I can't _believe _you didn't tell me!" Vicky exploded, throwing her hands up into the air.

Albus fought back a yawn. "I didn't...I didn't think it was that big of a deal," he said.

His friend scoffed, and rolled her eyes. "Oh, of course it's not a big deal," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's only one of the Six Saviours getting married, after all."

"Shut up, Vic," Albus muttered, looking down at his feet. It was the following evening, and the two of them were in the common room. They were practically the only ones there. The green light that lit up the room was usually comforting, but now it was just eerie.

Vicky was holding a copy of the _Daily Prophet _in her hand. He could see the headline from here. _Saviour Lovegood Announces Her Engagement. _He frowned.

"Don't you tell _me _to shut up, Albus Potter!" Vicky said loudly. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was...I was going to," he said, shrugging. This seemed to be the wrong thing to say.

"I bet it just slipped your mind, didn't it?" she said dryly, tossing her curly light brown hair out of her flushed face.

"Would you just leave it, Vicky?" he said, annoyed. He had already had to put up with people approaching him all day long, congratulating him. Even Professor Burns, his Potions teacher and Head of House, had clapped him on the shoulder as he left the classroom. "Tell your aunt how happy we are for her," she said, a ghost of a smile flickering on her pale face.

He knew that they were only congratulating him because of his aunt's fame. It was obvious. It was the only reason _anyone _said or did anything nice to him. And it wasn't only because of Luna. It was because of his parents, too.

Albus had only discovered about the Saviours on his first day at Hogwarts, when he met Vicky and she had been bubbling over with excitement at the thought of meeting the _son of two Saviours. _When he had asked what she meant, she gave him a look one might give a three-legged puppy. "You don't _know?" _she had said incredulously, and then proceeded to tell him everything.

Everything about the Six Saviours - Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, and of course, his father. The six witches and wizards who, as a team, had defeated Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters. He had known they were famous, of course. You would have had to be living under a rock not to know. But he hadn't known the _extent _of their fame. He hadn't known that his family was famous all over the wizarding world, and beyond. He hadn't known that he would be bombarded with questions the minute he stepped onto the Hogwarts Express, everyone desperate to know how luxurious his life was (answer: it wasn't, not in the way they thought).

James had told him, "Just laugh it off, or ignore them." _Easy for him to say, _he had thought at the time. James had that natural, glowing confidence that came from being popular with both students and teachers. He had what seemed like hundreds of friends, friends who adored and hero-worshipped his every move. If anyone said anything to him (which they wouldn't, anyway), it was _easy _for him to laugh it off or act like they were joking, because if he did, so would everyone else.

Albus had tried the second option, ignoring them. It hadn't lasted very long. If he tried to keep his head down and not say anything, the questions became more and more frequent and more and more persistent. It made his heart rate speed up considerably, and he hated it.

So he came up with his own solution. Being invisible. Of course, most of the time it didn't work very well, but it was better than doing nothing at all. At least now he could _pretend _that he was doing something useful, something that would work. He spent most of his time staring determinedly at his shoes and hoping that no one would approach him. Well, he could hope, and he would hope.

Victoria Devlin-Marshall seemed to be the only person in the entire school who didn't see him just as the son of two Saviours. Well, she had at first, but it had only lasted for a few weeks. Soon enough she bantered and bickered with him as much as she did with her twin brother, Robert, who was in Ravenclaw.

The fact that she was comfortable around him didn't change the fact that she worshipped the Saviours. She had been beside herself when she walked into her first Herbology class and saw Neville (or, as Albus had been instructed to call him, Professor Longbottom) standing in the greenhouse. In fact, she had kept up Herbology simply so she could talk to him. She was still doing it now, in their sixth year. She had considered deliberately doing badly in her Herbology O.W.L so she could get extra coaching, but try as she might, she got an O. She had met Harry and Ginny a few times over various school holidays, and had almost been hysterical afterwards. In their first year she had even asked Albus if he could get an autograph for her. He had refused, of course.

Now, Vicky was standing over him (he was sitting down), hands on hips, her thin lips pursed. Her normally pale cheeks were flushed red, either in irritation or anger - it was hard to tell. Albus could see that she was trying her very best to look furious, but her eyes were shining, and he knew that she was hurt that he hadn't told her.

He sighed heavily. "Look," he said reluctantly, digging the letter out of his shirt pocket and unfolding it. "Read it, Vic, okay?"

He handed it to her and watched as her dark eyes darted back and forth, taking in the words. He knew she had reached the part where Harry invited her to the wedding, because her eyes widened and she gasped. She looked up from the letter to stare at him, speechless, for a few moments. "Oh, Al," she managed to say after a minute.

"Okay? So you see why I waited to tell you?" he said.

She nodded, her pale hand tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Once she had composed herself, she kept reading. As he had suspected, she muttered a bit about his father's saying she should keep her comments to herself, but she was far too excited to care too much. She threw her arms around his neck, practically climbing into his lap as she hugged him.

"Oh, Merlin," she said, standing back up after a minute. "Oh, Merlin, Al, what do I wear? What do I say? This isn't a joke, is it? Because if it is, I will curse you to the moon and back."

He couldn't help laughing. "It's not a joke," he said. "Are you free at the end of May?"

She snorted, close to tears. "Hey," Albus said. "Don't get so excited. It might be boring as hell, for all we know."

"It won't be," Vicky said fervently. "Oh, it won't be."

She sat heavily into the armchair opposite his. She read the letter over and over again, refusing to give it back. It got to the point where Albus had reached out to snatch it from her, when something over in the corner of the room caught his eye.

It was a girl, about his age, surrounded by several people. She had a small, nervous smile on her face. She was wearing a silver and green tie around her neck, yet Albus was certain he'd never seen her in any of his classes. However, there was something oddly familiar about her.

It took him a second, but when he caught sight of her wide blue eyes, his heart skipped a beat. He clutched the arms of the chair so hard his knuckles went white, his chest constricting. His throat seemed to close up, and he could hardly breathe.

He must have made some sort of sound, because Vicky looked up from the parchment in her hands. A confused expression appeared on her face. "What is it, Al?" she said, a hint of urgency in her voice. "What's wrong?"

He couldn't even look at her, let alone speak. His eyes were fixated on the girl in the corner. Just at that moment, as if she could read his mind, she glanced up and caught his gaze. She flashed him a tiny, slightly puzzled smile.

The same blonde hair. The same icy blue eyes. The same porcelain skin.

She was the girl from the dream.

He just knew it. She looked away after a second, clearly confused as to why he was staring at her. He could hear Vicky's voice, sounding frantic now, saying his name over and over, but it seemed distant, and if he were underwater and she was speaking to him from land.

She was the girl from the dream.

The dead girl.

Albus closed his eyes.


End file.
